


to know him, is to love him

by be_the_one



Category: Shadowhunters, Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments (Movies), The Mortal Instruments (Movies) RPF, The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: F/M, High School, M/M, THEY'RE LIKE THE CUTEST FUCKING SMOL BEANS EVER LET ME DIE, and their mutual hate for the rest of the lightwoods +maggie for their desperate need for attention, bite me, clary and alec bond over their mutual love for violence and swearing, clary and jace are besties who kiss platonically, friends with benefits???, i'm not kidding alec buys her rings for the sole purpose of punching people, it's possible, original i know, they definitely don't hate each other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2019-07-03 06:41:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15813537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/be_the_one/pseuds/be_the_one
Summary: Clary's relationships are all based off on compromises.Her parents: She doesn't get pregnant at the age of sixteen; doesn't get herself arrested; doesn't fail out of high school - and she won't have a curfew, or many rules to abide by.Magnus and Izzy: She finds a way to magically wield mascara, eyeliner, and matte lipgloss to the extent of where they deem it acceptable - and she gets to continue her parade of ripped jeans, band shirts, and Jace's sweaters.The principal: She tries to keep violence to a minimum - and she gets to keep wearing her rings.Alec: She continues to make him proud by following in his footsteps with his right-hook legacy - and he continues to buy her said rings.And finally, Jace, her best friend: She plays nice with the freshmen duckies, AKA, victims of his tooth-achingly sweet flirting attempts - and he buys her coffee.However, their agreement to lose their virginities to someone important, or each other, is broken.So, they make a new one.They experiment on each other.What could possibly go wrong?





	1. Chapter 1

My phone’s incessant vibration is what wakes me up. 

Mumbling to myself about Mondays, coffee, school -  _ oh god, school -  _ and morning people, I blindly reach for it, and press  _ decline.  _

Take that - whoever you are. 

Just as I’m about to fall back into the floating cloud of dreamland, it rings again. 

I glare at the tiny object, before resigning myself to just answering. 

“Well, at least you picked up.” The ever-so-enthusiastic voice of my best friend, Jace Herondale, drifts from the speaker. 

“What’s up, blondie?” 

He snorts. “The sky.”

Damn it. 

I walked right into that one. 

“What do you want?” 

“Oh, nothing, nothing.” His tone is one of a casual arrogance. “Just, you know, wondering when you plan to leave your house - considering school starts in,” he pauses, “half an hour.”

I pull the phone from my ear to check the time. 

Crap.

Then I notice the notifications.

6 mixed calls from Jace.

Double crap.

I can’t even blame Jace for not trying to warn me. 

“I’ll be down in five.” I hang up. 

And with - in my opinion - superhuman speed, I sleepily fall out of bed with a grunt, and stumble into the bathroom. I emerge from the tiny room exactly two minutes later, with fresh breath and a clean face. I thank myself for my laziness when I look down and see that I was only bothered with pulling on a Metallica band shirt - something that I could wear anywhere. 

When Jace sees me crash out of the front door like the clumsy flop I am, four minutes after having ended our call, I have on black skinny jeans - ripped to tatters, unlaced combat boots adorning my previously bare feet, and a half-zipped oversized bag with worksheets and loose-leaf sketches carelessly shoved inside. I’m sure that in my haste, a couple pieces fall out. I don’t bother to pick them up. I don’t even bother to check. 

“Graceful.” He comments, when I fling myself into the passenger seat of his monster Jeep. Clearly, the Lightwoods are filthy rich. 

“Shut your mouth, you inhumane, sociopathic, pigheaded ass.” I glare at him, yanking on my seatbelt and tossing my bag in the backseat. 

“Ouch.” He winces.“That’s a lot of adjectives. Someone’s not feeling very friendly.”

“It’s Monday.” I say offhandedly, as if the day of the week was reason enough. Which - it is. 

He shrugs, then nods in agreement, and Jace - bless his soul - holds out a plastic cup, complete with a lid, straw, and sloshing dark liquid. 

My eyes immediately hone in on the logo.

“Now,” he warns, “you know the deal. I buy you coffee in the morning, and you don’t do any of that intense glaring thing - where you like you’re about to kill whoever approaches you. It’s the first day, and the freshman could do without the fear of their eyes being clawed out.” 

“You just like flirting with them.” I scoff.

He smirks shamelessly. “It’s nice to have a variety.”

Sometimes, I question our friendship right down to its very being. He and I should not be compatible at all.

Jace Jonathan Christopher Herondale Lightwood has golden eyes - and matching hair. My eyes are a dark-ish sort of green, like the color of emeralds. My hair is a rat’s nest of different shades of red, and though I’ve found ways to make it look less like a fiery mop of tangles draped over my shoulders, the process takes so long that I don’t bother. 

He’s all smoldering stares, smooth pickup lines, seductive smirks, and flirty grins - which together, hypnotizes the entire  _ straight  _ female population, and most of the gay male population until they’re falling head over heels in love with him. Literally. The number of girls and guys alike, that’ve tripped and flung themselves at him when he walks through the halls is astonishing. 

As Jace has so delicately put it, I do not like people. With the exception of Simon Lewis, Magnus Bane, Isabelle, Alec, and Max Lightwood, and just occasionally, Jordan Kyle and his girlfriend, Maia. Everyone else, however, are in danger of having their eyes clawed out - something which my best friend has expressed to have an unusual amount of concern for. 

My best guess, is that he’s afraid there’d be no one left to appreciate him and his golden beauty if they’re all missing eyes. 

I am not gifted with the ability to spew out witty quips, nor am I able to hook anyone in with a monosyllabic grunt. In fact, my entire being consists of only sarcasm, black coffee, drawing paper, and charcoal.

Oh, and band t-shirts, of course.

Jace is on the football team. And with his height, his six pack, his gloriously toned body, how could he not be good at sports? But me, with my pathetic height of 5 foot 2 inches, and heavy combat boots - we don’t even belong in the same galaxy.

But then, he goes and does stuff like this - buying me coffee, drawing materials, even getting us tickets to Twenty One Pilots, though under the excuse of protecting his potential flings - and I remember exactly why we’ve been best friends since kindergarten. 

Once I get a couple more sips of coffee down my throat, Jace leans over and fits his mouth to mine.

The kiss is soft at first - just a faint brush of our lips, but I - damn my hormones - wrap my arms around his neck and pull him closer to me. 

He doesn’t seem to mind. 

His hands, previously having snaked around my waist, tangles in my hair, and the kiss becomes urgent and demanding. Jace tugs gently at my hair, and when a soft moan escapes me, he takes the chance to slide in his tongue. It goes on for a good couple of minutes, and when we’re done, he immediately shifts the car into gear, and we’re speeding away for school. 

“What was that for?” I gasp, still very much breathless.

He shrugs, and runs a hand through his hair. “I didn’t get a chance to do that last night.”

I think our platonic kisses may just be the only thing I’m living for. 

  
  


When we get to school in under ten minutes - a feat only possible by having a driver with a death wish, multiple heads turn to us. Or, more specifically - ditzy, starstruck gazes are locked on Jace. I sit in the car, dreading the very moment when I have to get out and acknowledge the fact that my summer holiday is over. 

I’m half hoping that he gets too distracted to notice that I’m still in the car, but I have no such luck. Jace walks around, opens the door for me, leans over to unbuckle my seatbelt, and drags me out - ignoring my feeble attempts to shove him away. 

Students give us a wide berth as we pass. Half the reason why is so that they’re able to stare at Jace from a safe-ish distance - after all, beautiful things are the most dangerous - and the other half is because my _talk-to-me-and-I’ll-cut-you-in-half_ attitude is radiating off me in waves, and I’m glaring at every object or person that comes too close. 

Jace says I should probably see a counsellor to talk out my ‘issues’ with the world. 

As we walk up the steps of the school, two spyder Porsches - one dark purple, one navy blue - screech into the parking lot and stop on either side of Jace’s jeep.

The Lightwood siblings step out of their respective cars, along with their boyfriends and I’m - even after spending most of our lives together - struck by their sheer gorgeousness. Even Magnus, with his makeup and glitter - seemingly inhuman. 

Then I see Simon, stumbling behind them.

Poor kid. 

They reach us - Izzy oozing glamour and confidence with every step. Magnus, walking with his regular flourish and dramatic flair. Simon, energetic as he caught up, cute in a dork-ish kind of way. And Alec, slouching, hands shoved deep in his pockets, and murderously staring down anyone who’d dared meet his eye. 

He and I are the most alike.

“Clary, Clary,” Izzy tutts in disappointment. “What am I going to do with you? It’s been two months, and you still won’t venture further in your closet other than the first two layers.”

Alec snorts. “You were all but dragging me out the closet in middle school, but you want to shove Clary all the way in her’s?” 

“That’s not what your sister meant and you know it.” Magnus elbows him. 

“Do I?” 

“It’s your junior year, Clary.” Mags turns to me, and says it with such seriousness that eradicates all chance of him just messing with me. “While you may be able to pull off  oversized sweaters,   band tees,  ripped skinny jeans, and  combat boots - you have to start trying just a tad more.” 

“I thought y’all were done with her clothes. Didn’t you compromise on getting her to wear more than mascara for makeup?” Simon looks up from his phone, and reminds everyone of the deal I struck with Izzy and Magnus two years ago.

I’d expertly wielded eyeliner and a mascara wand on the drive here - creating the illusion of almost-glowing green irises until they took on an otherworldly quality. Minus for the matte lipgloss I was missing, I looked like the version of me that we’d agreed on. “We don’t leave this place for another year after this one - what are you all excited for?” 

Izzy and Magnus freeze and exchange sheepish grins.

“Your first boyfriend after finally losing your virginity?” Izzy offers. 

“What? You lost - what? Clary, what?” Jace gapes at me, flabbergasted. His voice is so loud that more heads turn to look at us.“We had a pact! How could you? We were supposed to lose them during senior year - if we were in a relationship! Y- you-” he splutters in indignation, before continuing to say, “you said losing them too early was idiotic!” 

“Izzy!” I glare at her. “She’s over exaggerating.” 

“But she said-” Jace’s face screws up in confusion.

“Well, I mean - technically, my virginity is gone. But it doesn’t really count.” I roll my eyes. “Me and Raphael had barely done anything when Izzy walked in. And now,” another glare, “she won’t stop telling people that I’ve lost my v-card. Which, I did - but it shouldn’t count as anything.”  

“Biscuit,” Magnus stares at me. “That’s not how it works.” 

Jace’s eyes are still wide in disbelief, but he still slings an arm around my shoulders. “But your hymen isn’t intact anymore?”

“Right.” I deadpan.

“And you didn’t tell me?”

I wince, and look at my feet. “I thought you’d be mad. We made a pact, and I was planning on keeping it, but one thing led to another, and-”

All of sudden, Simon bursts in uncontained laughter. “I’m sorry, did you guys miss the part where Jace admits that he’s a virgin?” He snorts, eyes tearing up. “Jace Herondale - the world’s most arrogant golden boy, a ladies man - a virgin. And I, Simon Lewis, a dork with gamer tees and glasses - am not.” 

He shakes his head in glee. “Oh, I am never ever, ever, ever going to forget this moment.” 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Susan.” And just like that, the laughter ceases to exist.

“It’s Simon.” He mutters dejectedly, looking so pathetic that Izzy moves to link her hands with his. 

“Sure, Sally.” 

I shake Jace’s arm off my shoulder, and grab his hand - pulling him away before he causes another scene, and before Magnus and Alec’s faces can turn any redder with suppressed amusement. 

Once we collect our schedules from the general office, Alec and Magnus - being seniors - head towards the other side of school, with the promise of finding us during lunch.

While the rest of us walk, we compare schedules, and I’m relieved when I see that half of my classes are with Jace. However, barely any are shared with Izzy and Simon. It almost seems like a sacred gift of god when we realize that we’re all in the same homeroom.

I regret the thought almost immediately when Kaelie Whitewillow, reach the class door as we do. It’s a small mercy that her ‘queen’, and the rest of her squad are nowhere to be seen.

“Ohmygod, Jace!” Kaelie beams, and totters her way over to us. In the hot pink stripper heels she’s wearing, I’m surprised her ankles don’t snap. I’ve hung out with Izzy long enough to know that the feat she’s doing is possible without falling, but it doesn’t stop me from hoping. “How’ve you been? You never called.” She smacks her lips together and pouts - a sad attempt at being cute. 

I almost lose it when she thrusts her chest forward so violently that it seems like she’s being poked in the back with a red-hot iron poker. Simon and Izzy don’t seem to be holding up any better, as I can see their shoulders shaking in my peripheral. 

Kaelie, as if suddenly noticing my presence, glares and shoots me a sickly-sweet-but-totally-fake smile. “Clary! I didn’t see you there. You’re just so…” She wrinkles her nose distastefully, “...insignificant.” 

“Right. While that pimple on your forehead is anything but. My sympathies.” Izzy snorts. “It must be sad when half a bottle of foundation isn’t enough.”

Underneath her caked-on makeup, blood rushes to Kaelie’s face. It takes her a while to regain her composure, and when she does, her eyes hone in on the hand Izzy has linked with Simon's, and sashays right to him. The horror is evident in his expression when she trails a hand down his chest, and smirks. “You’re cute. If you want, you could come over today, and we can have a little-” 

Before she finishes her sentence, I grab her arm and fling her towards the lockers. She barely takes two steps before her shoes give out, and she lands on her ass.  _ Not what I was going for, but okay.  _ I lunge towards her when she clambers to her feet - despite not knowing what I’d do - but I’m held back by Jace, who firmly wraps an arm around my waist. 

“Relax. I think she gets it.” He’s low enough that only I can hear. “Must you always do this?”

Kaelie, however, seems only to be pleased at his actions. “Thanks, Jace. I don’t know what I would have done without you.” She gloats. “Some people, it seems, have forgotten to take their medication this morning.” 

She starts to take smug steps towards him again, but halts once she feels the heat of his glare. 

Without saying a word, Jace pushes past her, ignoring her indignant shriek of protest. 

 

Once we get a desk in the near-back of the class, I twist out of his grasp. “Why did you stop me?” I demand.

“The deal you made, Clary. Remember it?” 

“Uh, yeah. I remember. What, you want Kaelie available for you?” I scoff. “I don’t think anything’s going to ruin your chance with her. She’s been trailing after you like a lost puppy since middle school.” 

“I know she’s a slut-” 

“Don’t call her that.” I snap. “Don’t call her a slut. She’s a psychotic-attention-seeking-bitch of a female, but don’t call her a slut. That word exists just to degrade women for have a sex life. Completely irrelevant. And anti-feminist.”

He looks at me oddly, expression softening. “You’re an enigma, Fray.”

I raise an eyebrow, unimpressed. 

“I’m talking about the deal you made with the principal.” He explains. “You stop starting fights, and you get to keep wearing your rings.” 

Right.

As of last year, the metal rings that’d adorned most of my fingers had been viewed as a threat against the safety of the student population. All in all, it was hands down the greatest achievement of my life. Alec - who’s right hook was a legend passed around in the locker rooms - had been so proud that he bought me an entire set of antique rings. 

“Oh.” I wince. “That.”

“Mm hm. That.” Jace says, tugging at my wrist. He focuses on something in the front of the class.“Sit down, before Seelie does.”

I oblige, and when I look in the same direction, Seelie Queen, Jace’s girlfriend of three months - a record - stands glaring at me. 

She’s tall, with dyed red hair. It’s a shade eerily similar to mine, but hangs straight as silk down to her waist, unlike my messy waves, that reach just below my ribs. Her taste in clothing isn’t much different from Kaelie’s, but it’s a given, considering her, Kaelie, and Aline Penhallow are the stuck-up, snotty, fake ‘mean’ girls of my high school. They’re inseparable, but their catfights - caused by the latest backstab - are infamous. 

She rushes to us and plops herself on Jace’s lap. The scent of her floral perfume threatens to choke me. Jace seems to have issues breathing, too, as his face is tilted to the ceiling, and he inhales through his mouth. 

“Seelie,” he strains. “Did you bathe in perfume?”

She releases a high pitched screech of laughter that are as fake as her eyelashes. “Oh, you’re so funny.” She kisses him sloppily, and looks over at us under heavy lids. “Isn’t my Jacey cute? I mean, he can be more than just cute, trust me. Especially in bed-” 

“Stop talking.” Jace mutters through gritted teeth, but the damage is done.

“Excuse me?” I explode. 

“Clary.” He looks panickedly around the room. “I-I can explain, I-”

“And you gave me so much crap for losing my virginity?” I laugh in disbelief. “You are such a freaking hypocrite.”

“I- Sorry?” He cringes away from me. 

“Wait. But you-you said-” Simon splutters. “I thought - you said - earlier-”

“I said you didn’t know anything - which, you don’t.” Jace smirks when Simon turns red. 

“How-” I start, but I’m reminded by Seelie’s presence when she wraps her arms around Jace, and clings to him - making it near impossible to have a conversation. 

“Seelie. Could you, maybe, act more like a person, and less like a piece of chewed-up gum? Get a chair. Somewhere else.” I give her my best glare. “This table’s at its capacity.”

“Oh, I totally agree,” she sneers. “Well, scram, Clary - you’re in my seat.” 

My eyebrows go up again. “I wasn’t referring to me.” 

“But I’m his girlfriend,” she smirks, “am I not?” 

“-He’s had many girlfriends, and the two of you aren’t exclusive. So, in other words - you’re nothing special.” Izzy winks at me when I shoot a thankful glance her way.

“Excuse me? I-”

“You’ve been excused the moment you sat down. You and Jace can slobber over each other later - I want my insides to stay, well,  _ inside _ of me, during class. Leave.” I pick up my phone, effectively ending the exchange. Seelie’s mouth twists into an ugly pout, and she turns to Jace when he doesn’t object.

“Are you just going to let her talk to me like that? I’m your girlfriend! The ginger bitch should know her place.”

“And here I thought you dyed your hair because you were jealous of Clary, and the attention Jace gave her.” Izzy snorts. 

“The ginger bitch wants you to leave,” I remind her.

“Sorry, Seelie.” Jace winces.

With a huff, she stands up and stalks away, taking the tooth-rottingly-sweet stench of vanilla, peaches, and a whole goddamn garden of flowers along with her. 

Jace watches her go. “You couldn’t have done that a little gentler? Now she’ll be whining about me having to put her before you.” 

“Why are you dating her?” Simon asks, “I mean, you can’t possibly like her.”

Jace just shrugs. “Seemed like a good idea back then. The guys on the football team said the match would be aesthetically pleasing enough, and she didn’t seem like the type to chase after an exclusive relationship. Plus, I got tired of people asking me about Clary all the time.” Right. That’d stopped after Seelie went around and told everyone she and Jace were dating.

Exclusive or not, Jace hadn’t made a move on anyone else - save for the innocent flirting he partook in with anyone in his path, and the things he and I occasionally did - he remained dating only Seelie, no matter how  _ persuasive  _ others got. 

The same couldn’t be said for her. 

If she wasn’t sitting on Jace’s lap, she was sitting on someone else’s. 

If her lips weren’t on Jace, they were on someone else, either in her bedroom, or in the janitor’s closet, getting to third base. 

Usually, that someone had a girlfriend.

And while it was the guy’s fault just as much as it was her’s, the fact that she had never bothered to keep her hook-ups subtle, and how she had no respect for herself, the girls who’d gotten hurt for her amusement - or anyone at all, really - made me absolutely loathe her. 

“I’m sure if you ask her, she’d give anything for the two of you to be exclusive.” Izzy mutters offhandedly. “Of course, she’ll expect it to only apply to you, and she’ll continue to screw the entire male population to try to get you jealous.” 

“Yeah - that’s not really - no. There are some things I’m not quite ready to change about my life.” He looks at me pointedly. Right - again. If me and Jace were ever to date someone exclusively, we’d have to stop all our kissing, and whatnot. 

 

Once attendance is taken, me and Jace head off to Literature, while Izzy and Simon go for History. We’re one of the first ones there, so we get our favorite table. The class is the exact same as it was last year, with cringey Shakespeare quotes tacked along the walls. I can still see the burn mark from when Jace and I had thought it would be a good idea to light a bunch of matches in place of a torch while acting out Romeo and Juliet. 

“So,” I pop a piece of gum in my mouth. “How was it?”

Jace eyes me warily. “How was what?”

“Sex.” I scroll through Instagram, not bothering to look up. “I assume you and Seelie finished doing the deed.”

“She finished - I didn’t.” He wrinkles his nose at my raised eyebrows. “It wasn’t nearly as good as everyone says it is. The sounds - were putting me off.” 

“Who would’ve thought that loud sex wouldn’t be your thing? Or - was it just the wrong person?”

“It was just too much - seemed too fake, sort of.”

“Right.” I smirk knowingly.

Jace’s eyes darken suddenly, and I’m about to ask why, when-

“-Clary.” I twist in my seat to see Raphael Santiago making a beeline for our desk. “It’s nice to see you again. I don’t think we’ve spent time together since our last, ah, incident.” He purses his lips in remembrance. “How’s Isabelle? I think we may have scarred her permanently.”

“She’s fine.” I snort dismissively. “I walked in on her and Simon the very next day.”

“Good. Well then, maybe you’d like to hang out again - finish what we started?”

“-She’s busy.” Jace cuts in before I can say anything.

“Oh?” Raphael’s eyebrows lift - in a challenge. “With who?” 

“Me.” He replies smoothly. “We’re planning on exploring the boundaries of our  _ friendship _ .” 

I frown.  _ What in hell is he doing?  _

“Right,” Raphael nods, unconvinced. “Clary?”

Again, before I can make a single sound, Jace interrupts me. This time - with his lips. 

Jace pulls me to him, and kisses me firmly. Almost immediately, my thoughts are severed, and anything of all matter, drifts away in a cloud of bliss. 

I part my lips slightly, allowing him the chance for access to my mouth. He takes it greedily; sliding his tongue in, tangling it with mine. His hands fists in my hair, and the sensation drags out a quiet moan from me. I can feel him smiling against my lips, and but it disappears, and is replaced with urgency when I tangle one hand in his hair, and place the other high,  _ high,  _ up on his thigh. 

When we break apart, Raphael is walking away, and three-quarters of the class is staring at us. 

“Mind your own business.” I snap. Everyone turns away again, suddenly busy. I slap Jace’s arm, glaring in triumph when he howls in pain. “What’s your problem?” I hiss. 

He shrugs in response. “I didn’t like the way he was suggesting those things.” 

Only then do I notice a tall, black-haired figure, perched on a desk, shooting daggers at me. 

Shit. 

Aline Penhallow is in our class. 

“Seelie.” I groan.

“Seelie?” His eyes bug out. “Why on earth are you think about her - of all people - at a time like this?” His mouth drops open. “Is she my competition?” As if. 

My eyes roll so far back into my head that all I see is black, for a moment. “No, idiot. It’s just - Aline’s here.” He follows my gaze, and winces. “Your girlfriend’s never going to leave me alone now.”

Jace shakes his head, but doesn’t give any other reaction to the mention of his sort-of-girlfriend. Instead, his eyes stay fixed on me, and he smiles softly. 

“What?” I ask wryly. 

“Nothing,” The smile - not smirk,  _ smile  _ \- softens further. “That was a damn good kiss.” 

“You think?” 

“Why must you be so difficult?” He sneaks a look at the front of the class, and pulls me to him again. “Come here.” He murmurs. 

I’m happy to oblige. 

He tilts my chin up, and kisses me softly. Once, twice. The third time, his tongue slips into my mouth again, and he pulls it out slowly, using the tip to outline the shape of my lips. 

The kiss is soft and sweet - so unlike every one that we’ve shared - and I enjoy it so much that I think I forget to breathe. 

“Clary?” Jace’s amusement blurs in and out of my vision. 

“Clary.”

“Clarissa.” 

_ Oxygen.  _ I finally remember what I’m lacking, and I inhale deeply. 

“You good?” 

“You,” I manage to gasp, “seem to be a hazard to my health.” 

His presses his lips together, as if fighting the urge to tease me. It doesn’t work, and I can only glare as he dissolves into quiet laughter. 

At that moment, the class door is flung open once more, and our teacher for the year, Amatis Graymark, strides in. 

“Settle down.” Her tone is cool and crisp, and combined with the no-bullshit vibe she gives off, it’s enough to get the entire class to quieten. 

She shoots us a sharp look, when Jace makes a show of getting comfortable - shifting closer to me and throwing an arm around my shoulders in the process. 

“Mr Herondale.” Her lips are pressed in a thin line. “I fail to see how  _ cuddling  _ is beneficial to your English education.”

Jace wears a shit-eating grin when half the class turn to us, again. “It’s a helpful incentive.” He informs. 

Amatis only sighs. Being Luke’s sister and my step-aunt, she knows us personally. But I swear there’s warmth in the glare she sends our way - warmth that only family has for one another. Jace may as well be adopted into the Fray-Graymark’s, considering he and I are almost connected at the hip - and to top it all of - even Maryse and Robert were friends with my mother. Our holidays, Thanksgiving and Christmas, are always spent at either homes, alternating each year. 

“If this is a preview of what’s to come, I predict that your classmates will be very much entertained for the rest of the year.” And then she does the unthinkable. “Separate, you two.” For a couple of moments, I can only stare at her in horror.

“What?”

“Amatis! But-”

“No buts, Herondale.” Amatis replies firmly. She makes a splitting motion with her hands. “Move.” 

“Come on!” I groan. “None of this is my fault! Why must I move?” 

She pauses, “Okay. Stay there -  _ not you,  _ Herondale. Get your butt off that chair. Verlac, sit beside Clary. Jace - it’s either the front, or you can sit by Aline.” 

“Where? I don’t see any empty seats.” Jace looks around dramatically, and then shrugs. “Oh, well. Guess I’ll have to go back-” He’s cut off when Amatis grabs him by the arm, and plops him down at the front. “I’d like to make a complaint.” He mutters, rubbing his arm ruefully. 

“So do I.” She glares. “What genius put the two of you in my class for two - now three - years in a row?” 

The class snickers - it isn’t a secret that we interrupt more classes than acceptable. Our entire group consists of outspoken - though in varying ways - people. Izzy, Magnus, and Jace - especially, find absolute delight in creating a ruckus. Simon, though slightly less opinionated, is loud enough when the rest of us are. Only Alec and I, with no grasp on socially acceptable words and forms of violence whatsoever try to avoid being the center of attention - even Simon happens to be better than us, as he’s only awkward when an Isabelle Lightwood is concerned - try to keep our distance. But being hotheaded, we’re dragged in, and the entire situation turns into a chicken coup. There are one or two or three instances where classes consists of different years, and the six of us - thanks to some oblivious faculty member - have been put in the same class. And now, no teacher in their right mind takes more than three of us together in their classes. 

“-Hey.” I look to my right, in time to see Sebastian slide into the now-empty seat. “How’s it going?” 

“Alive and breathing, you?” Sebastian Verlac is tall, fairly muscular, has matching black hair and eyes. I suppose he’s good-looking, but his beauty have never taken my breath away. Then again, it’d be ridiculously unfair to my hormones if everyone looked the way Jace did. I don’t mind him as much as I do the other guys on the football team. Me being Jace’s best friend since before having to ever attend school has ensured that I become very well acquainted with the football team every year - Jace enjoys the sport well enough, while I only enjoy the sight of sweaty dudes in tights invading each others’ personal space with the excuse of stealing a ball. 

“Same, same.” He grins, and exchanges it for a smirk. “How was your holiday? I heard you and Raphael got down and-”

“-I know. I was there. Shut up.” I glare at him. “How did you find out?” 

Sebastian shrugs. “I hear things.”

“Cute. But really,” I wack his arm, “who told you?” 

“The man himself.” He wiggles his eyebrows at me, and grins .“He was all ecstatic and proud and shit, when he came over that night, ranting about how he got you to spread your legs-”

“The hell? You’re all pigs.” 

He at least has the decency to look slightly abashed. “Sorry.” He winces, “Raph gets a little crude when there’s no one he’s trying to impress hanging around.” 

“Doesn’t matter, I guess. It’s not happening again.” I shrug, and pull out my sketchpad - custom made, filled with expensive parchment, and my name in gold cursive lettering -  _ Jace’s handwriting -  _ on the jet-black cover. A completely unnecessary, but totally appreciated gift from -  _ can you guess it? I think you can. -  _ Jace. 

“Why not?” Sebastian presses. 

I shrug again. “Honestly? I don’t even know why I did it in the first place. And anyways, it doesn’t exactly live up to the hype. We’re in Junior year - there’s honestly no point.” 

“It’s not as good because it was your  _ first  _ time. It always gets better.” He pauses and frowns, “wait - it was your first, right?” 

I nod. 

“Oh. ‘Cause I wasn’t sure, you know - because Raphael said you looked like you were kind of in pain, but you didn’t say any of the ‘baby, be gentle, it’s my first time,’ kind of crap.” He takes a deep breath before continuing. “Also, there’s been a lot of rumors, you know? Like - like, we all know you don’t really go out with a lot of people here, and Jace with his protective shit in the locker rooms - wait, you’re aware of the fact that he tells the entire football team to shut up when we - they - talk about you, right? Anyways, we just kinda assumed that you and Jace had something going on, but then he’s kinda dating Seelie, so no one really knows and I just thought that-”

“Dude. Breathe.” 

“Right. Yeah.” He nods. “Forgot that was a thing.” 

“Are - are you on something?” When all he does is blink, I ask, “If so, can I get a hit?” 

Sebastian opens his mouth again, but Amatis interrupts. 

“Mr Verlac, will I need to find a replacement for you?”

“No - no, no, no - not at all, ma’am.” He replies too quickly, and flushes a light, delicate pink when I raise my eyebrows. 

Jace turns his head towards us, and I try to ignore how he’s watching the both of us with suspicious eyes. However, the diversion of my view only brings me to lock gazes with Raphael. He glares at me first, and then Sebastian beside me. 

With a very audible sigh, I settle down in my seat, and flip open my sketchpad to a blank page. 

Soon enough, my brain is mush, and I’m gone, gone, gone. 

Away from the exhaustion, and the boiling tea, that was,  _ you guessed it,  _ high school.

 

_ Um, dramatic much? _


	2. Chapter 2

I’m daydreaming my way through Biology, when Izzy taps my shoulder with a manicured nail - sharpened to points. 

“Clary.” She pokes me again. “Clary.” 

“Ow,” I wince, when a nail pokes at my skin, thanks to the ever-dropping collar of my too-big shirt. “Yes. Hi. How may I be of assistance?” 

“You could get up.” She hisses. “Class is over. We’re going to lunch.”

I frown, and yawn loudly. 

“Um, Clary?” Izzy motions to the lower region of my face. “You got a little, something, on your face - uh, drool.” 

I wipe at the incriminating area, and it must make some sort of difference, because Izzy nods, and drags me out of class, and towards the chaos of the cafeteria. 

With the excuse of looking for food, Izzy ditches me the moment we walk through the doors, and I’m left alone to find the rest of the gang. I spot Magnus’s unmistakable spiky hairdo - gelled in spikes, and re-coated with - I’m sure - what seems to be another half a bottle of craft glitter. It sparkles even more that it did this morning, but it’s not that surprising, considering Magnus isn’t truly functional until  _ after  _ noon. 

I personally can’t remember the last time I’ve  _ actually _ been fully functional, but really, who’s counting? 

At last, after weaving my way through the crowd, I reach our table and slide into the seat beside Alec, who stares right through his sandwich with unfocused eyes. I notice the slight bulge in his cheeks, which informs that he’d already taken a bite. 

“Uh - I think that - swallowing, should be your next step.” I tell him sweetly. 

He glares at me. “I know how to swallow, Fray. Just ask him.” He nods towards Magnus, who chokes on his cucumber.  _ Off all the times to be eating a cucumber.  _ I let out a small snort, and eat the avocado slices off his plate, because, for some reason unknown to humankind, Alec hates avocados. I’d tried to question his questionable taste in food, because -  _ hello, this was the guy who put pickles on peanut butter -  _ but he’d clammed up and adamantly refused to answer. So, I’d chalked it up to have something to do with his unexplainable prejudice against armadillos.  _ Armadillos and avocados.  _

Occasionally, I wonder how many brain cells I have left. But the hypothesized answer is just so depressing that I push it towards the recess of my mind. 

I turn towards the other presence at the table, only to find Simon’s fingers flying across his phone screen. I doubt that he even notices anyone’s presence - that is, until Izzy makes her way to us, and plops herself down beside him. He looks up with such eagerness, and kisses her in a way that would’ve made his younger, less experienced self, turn into a blubbering idiot. 

All of a sudden, I feel lonely. Especially when I look back at Magnus and Alec, and I find them making fuck-me eyes at each other. 

Before I can dwell on the sudden change of my mood, a caramel-chocolate muffin is placed under my nose, along with a bottle of milk tea. I look up, to see Jace towering over me. 

“Eat.” He says - commands. 

I give him a small grin, that I reserve  _ only  _ for him, and no one else. He knows me better than anyone, including myself - the insecurities, and the feelings that I believed I’d kept bottled inside  _ years  _ ago - he knows how they still lurk underneath, and influence every decision I make. And although he’d taken it upon himself to make sure I didn’t miss a meal since we were Freshman, the act still causes me to feel a tinge of guilt - about how even still, I haven’t been able to heal myself, and it’s him,  _ always him,  _ that takes care of me. 

 

Anorexia was something I’d developed after starting high school. 

I was a late bloomer, and my curves were practically non-existent then. My hair was a bright orange, having not yet developed the reddish hue I currently had. I had an unflattering splatter of freckles all over my face in elementary, and middle school - that had only just begun disappearing at an agonisingly slow pace. The weighing scale told me that I was already almost below the average weight of a female at my height, but it hadn’t really mattered.  _ Because,  _ I was already ugly, and a disgrace to look at. Nothing like my family - I lacked the grace and the fae-like beauty my mom, Jocelyn Fray, had. Or the confidence and the intimidation, my brother, Jonathan Fray, radiated. I was abysmal, at best - and hanging around the effortlessly gorgeous Lightwoods, with the addition of Magnus, and even the geekily charming Simon - did absolutely nothing for my self-esteem. 

_ So,  _ I figured,  _ if I wasn’t the pretty one - I’d be the skinny one.  _

And then I stopped eating.

Not suddenly - out of the blue. 

But instead, the changes in my eating habits came gradually - almost unnoticeable unless compared to the habits from weeks before. 

My metabolism was high enough to begin with, so shrinking wasn’t a problem. 

It was the nausea; the stomach pains; the dizzy spells; the stamina (or lack thereof)  - that got to me. 

My immune system weakened, and colds had attacked me almost once a month. I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t function, and I wasn’t able to go anywhere without concealer covering the eye bags that had appeared in result. 

Jace figured it out just months later. 

He’d cornered me in a deserted hallway, after days-worth of excuses for missing lunch. And when I had walked away, he chased after me, and dragged me into a classroom instead right before I made it out to the parking lot. And then he’d locked the door, positioned a table in front of it, sat on the table - arms crossed over his chest, and sent continuous glares my way at my refusal to talk. 

I did talk, eventually. He held me, stroked my hair when I cried my eyes out, and wiped away my snot with his sleeve. And then when I’d calmed down, he took me to Taki’s, and split a stack of coconut pancakes with me. Of course, the pancakes weren’t enough for someone the size of him, so he ordered himself a large burger, too. 

When he drove me home, he’d made the decision to stay over, as he was unwilling to leave me alone - with Jocelyn at another artist convention in San Diego, and Luke accompanying her - the already-too-big Fray house would’ve been an abandoned mansion without their presence. So, we stopped by the grocery store, and he bought popcorn, chips, and ice-cream, for the sole purpose of spending the entire night binging whatever Netflix had to offer. 

I didn’t eat the snacks at first - already overwhelmed by the sudden amount of food I’d kept down in my system for dinner, but, gradually - one bite at a time. 

And when I polished off an entire bag of chips two months later, Jace looked at me as though I’d fought in a war and won. And then he kissed me - long and hard for the very first time - and one thing led to another, which led to a heated make-out session under my bedsheets in nothing but our underwear. 

_ “Beautiful,” he’d whispered. Even though my ribs were prominent, and I was still bony, and I’d refused to push the blankets aside, even when we were hot and sweaty.  _

And the days when I stare in the mirror, and I loathe what I see, it’s always Jace that makes me feel like no one else thinks the same about me. 

 

“-Clary.” Jace shakes my shoulder. “You okay?”

“Huh?” I look up, and realize that everyone’s staring at me. “Fine, fine - just not enough sleep.”

“Why?” Izzy smirks, and takes a bite out of a miniscule tomato. “Did you and Jace have too much fun last night?” 

Magnus snickers, “Don’t forget this morning,” he adds. 

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh, nothing, nothing. It’s just that, I heard the two of you,” she motions towards me and Jace with a fork, “got all _ up close and personal  _ in English Lit.” She smiles devilishly, and picks at a blood red nail. “Anything you’d like to share?” 

I groan inwardly.  _ Of course they’d hear about it.  _

“-Not that I can think of. Do you have something to share?” Jace shrugs. “Oh - Alec, do I have to be there for tryouts?” 

“Stop changing the subject.” Alec rolls his eyes. “But, yeah, considering you’re being groomed for Captain for when I graduate.” 

“Aw, man. Raincheck, then?” He turns to face me. 

“I don’t mind waiting.” I shrug. “We can get dinner after.” 

A grin lights up his face. “You’re the best.” Jace presses a kiss to my cheek, and gets up from his chair. “I need to talk to coach - I’ll see you in algebra, right?” 

I nod in confirmation, before taking a bite out of my muffin. When he leaves, several pairs of eyes turn to me. 

“What?” I continue eating. 

“What are the two of you doing tonight?” Izzy demands. 

“I’m going over to your place, and we’re binging on Netflix shows - again. Maybe some homework if we feel like it. Why?” 

She ignores me. “What did you two do last night?” 

“The exact same thing.” I frown at her. “We do the exact same thing almost every day. How do you still have to ask?” 

“Well,” she shrugs. “I may have heard from Helen Blackthorn, who heard from Aline Penhallow, that she saw you and Jace making out in class this morning.” 

“-And considering the two of you don’t make out -”  _ Yes, we do,  _ I mentally correct Magnus when he decides to butt in. “ _ And  _ he was over at your place until past midnight yesterday, we were just wondering - what in hell did the two of you get up to?” 

“Nothing.” Magnus looks as though he’s ready to retort, so I hurry to continue. “Nothing, really. Raphael came up to us, and asked to hang out - to, you know. So, Jace said that he and I were planning on, and I quote, ‘exploring the boundaries of our friendship’, to get him to leave us alone.” 

Four pairs of unconvinced eyes continue to stare at me. 

Suddenly, the bell rings - signaling the end of lunch.

“You know what - believe what you want.” I jump up, and gather my things. I grab the empty muffin wrapper, and the unopened bottle of milk tea. “I gotta get to class. See ya.” 

“Wait, wait, wait.” Izzy hooks on to my arm. “Did you forget that we have the next class together? Next two, actually.” 

_ Right.  _

“Izzy, I love you to death - but you’re a little much, you know?” 

“I know.” She winks at me. “Don’t expect me to be forgetting about the whole conversation earlier.” 

All I can do is sigh. 


	3. Chapter 3

“Honey, I’m home!” I call out jokingly, once Jace gets the front door of the -  _ his  _ \- mansion open. Usually, all members of the gang are at the Lightwood residence - we may as well be homeless, considering the number of times a week we stay over. However, the only sound that greets us is Alec’s chuckle. 

We follow it until we reach the kitchen. Alec - a lonesome figure - is sitting at the kitchen island, hunched over a plate of tacos. 

“Ooh. Yum.” I make a move to reach for one, but Alec bats my hand away. “Hey! That’s not very nice of you.” I glare, cradling my hand to my chest. 

He looks at me unblinkingly. “Didn’t you guys already get dinner?” 

“Yeah, but-” Jace appears at my side, and tries his luck with the food. “They’re tacos, dude. What, you wave these around in our face and not expect us to want one?” 

“You came into the kitchen of your own free will.” Alec reminds him. “Lay off the tacos.” He snaps. “I made them myself. And I’m  _ not  _ sharing a delicacy like such with a pig like you.” 

“I’m not a pig. Why must you and Clary keep insisting that I am?” 

“Tell me you did not order enough food enough for at least two - very largely built - people, and eat it all yourself.”

“He did. Plus half of my fries.” I inform him cheerfully. I pat Jace’s shoulder gently, when he fumes silently. “You know, when more than  _ one _ person says something, more than  _ one  _ time - there’s gotta be a little truth to it.” 

“I’m so hurt.” Jace glares at me, and then shrugs. “Then, I suppose, since I’m a  _ pig,  _ I wouldn’t want to share the two pints of cookie dough ice cream I’ve saved.” 

_ He did not.  _ “Jace-” I warn. “Don’t be rash, now.” 

“Why?” He smirks at me. “I’m a pig, aren’t I? Shouldn’t I just keep all that heavenly sweetness for myself?” 

“Jace. Come on. Sweetie-” I throw my hand up in exasperation, when all he does is continue to smirk. “Okay, fine! You’re not a pig! Happy?” 

“Now, I don’t know,” he muses. “That didn’t sound very genuine to me.”

I almost growl at him. 

“Yeah, okay you can have the ice cream. I’m just bored.” Jace walks around me to open the freezer. “Hold on.” He rummages through the contents, but comes up with nothing. “Hold on for another second - it’s here somewhere - damn it.” 

“What?” I stand on my toes to attempt to peer over his shoulder, to no avail. 

He turns to look back at me - face frozen in horror. “It’s gone.” 

“Oh, yeah.” Alec snorts from behind us. “I saw mom throwing out a bunch of things the other day. I’m pretty sure two cartons of Ben and Jerry’s were included.” 

“No.” Jace stares at Alec. “She can’t do that - can she?”

He nods. “Yeah, she can. She bought this damn house.” 

“It’s not a house,” I grumble. “It’s the freaking matrix.” 

Alec moves to put his empty plate in the sink, and nudges me with his elbow. He grins. “Is someone still upset about getting lost here the other day?” 

“Wait,” Jace blinks at me in astonishment. “You got lost? Again? When was this?” 

“Last Sunday,” Alec replies. “I came down here to get a glass of water in the middle of the night, and on my way up, I bumped into this tiny red thing - she was just wandering around in the halls.” He shakes his head. “Scared the absolute shit out of me.” 

“Clary, didn’t you leave right after dinner?” 

“Don’t remind me.” I glare at the floor. “It wasn’t my finest moment.” 

“Nothing ever is,” Jace snorts. 

“Anyways,” Alec sighs, and starts to head towards the main hall. “Have fun, lovebirds. Try not to be too loud. I’m heading off to bed soon.” 

“Lazy-ass pig.” I call out. I’m elbowed to the side, again, when Jace walks to the other side of the kitchen. “Ow.” I glare at him, and rub my arm.

“Want an Okra chip instead?” He grabs a packet of chips from a shelf and offers it to me.

“An okr - what?” I splutter. 

“An Okra chip. They’re dried ladyfingers - the vegetable thing. Maryse is on a bit of a health kick.” He shrugs. “Izzy, Alec, and I tried telling her that we were healthy and hot enough for the entire family - hell, the entire continent even-”

“Confidence,” I interrupt dryly, “sexy.” 

“-But she wasn’t having any of it. So, if you’re ever here for food, you’re out of luck. We don’t have any chips, cookies, soda, pastries - anything you’d actually want to eat - in our kitchen. Robert says he might just have to move out.” He opens a bag and pops the entire piece of some elongated green  _ thing _  in his mouth. Jace pauses, chewing, “but these aren’t that bad. Not that good, either. But not bad. Of course, you can’t expect anything less from something imported specially from Thailand.” 

I snort, and grab the bag from his hands. “Who gave Maryse the idea that she wasn’t already healthy? She’s a hot-shot lawyer, she’s given birth to three kids, does yoga once a week, and goes to the gym at least 3 times a month. Oh god,” I gag. “That’s revolting.”

Jace’s stares at me incredulously when I race to the trash and spit out half-chewed green mush. “Good  _ god _ , it’s like - like, chewing on eggshells that’ve been dipped in oil and dropped in a garbage dump - Jace, why the hell do you hate your mouth so much that you’re willing to put something like this in it?” 

“Just - stop. Don’t.” He shakes his head at me. “Clearly, you are unable to appreciate the unique taste of such rare luxuries.” 

“If by  _ unique _ , you mean - absolutely disgusting, stomach-turning, nauseatingly gross - then yeah, I suppose I find it a challenge to appreciate food like that.” 

“You know what? Let’s go.” Jace grabs me by the arm, and leads me out of the kitchen. “If you find our food so off-putting, then you don’t have any reason to be in the kitchen. Move along, now.” I sigh, and allow myself to be manhandled up two flights of stairs, and through four different halls. He flings his bedroom door open in exaggerated animation, and grins at me.

“The time has come,” he says. “To carry the bride over the threshold.” With a flourish, Jace sweeps an arm at the back of my knees, and uses the other to support my back. 

I cringe, and wrap my arms around his neck when the ground detaches from my feet. “What’s wrong with you?” I peer up at him. “Are you high?”

“No. This is my natural enthusiasm.” And then - without any warning whatsoever - tosses me onto the mattress. I flinch when it comes into contact, and my hand moves to rub the small of my back over my shirt. Jace misses nothing, 

“What’s wrong?” He frowns. 

I avert my eyes. “Nothing, nothing.” Shame burns on my cheek. At his raised eyebrow, I sigh, and concede. “I fell - this morning. When I was rushing down the stairs.” I bite my lip, not wanting to see the laughter threatening to overtake him. 

“Stop it.” I complain. 

“Stop what?” 

“That.” I glare at the ceiling. “Stop laughing at me.” 

“I’m not laughing at you.” I look up, to see amusement dancing in his eyes. His lips are pressed so tightly together in repressed amusement that they’re barely visible - just a thin, white line in place of a mouth. 

“Sure you’re not.” I continue glaring. “It’s not my fault that-”

“-What, that you have two left feet?”

“No. I mean - yeah. It’s not my fault.” I can’t help but pout like a five-year-old. My inability to walk across any kind of surface is a touchy subject. 

“Right.” He muses. “It’s just that - the floor hates you, and the tables and chairs are bullies - and the walls are always in the way?” 

“Yeah. Exactly.” 

Jace tries - and fails - to muffle his laughter. It takes him minutes - at least two, or three, or four - to get it under control. Once he does, he takes one look at me - sitting on his bed and glaring at the adjacent wall - and bounces onto the bed himself, landing half-next to me, and half on top of me. 

“Jace,” I wheeze. “You’re crushing me. It’s like - like a rhino sitting on my chest.” 

An offended squeak escapes him. “Way to spare my feelings.” He shifts again, until he’s - mostly - off my body, and lowers himself down until his chest his pressed against my right arm, and his face is just inches from mine. A hand moves to stroke my side - just under my ribs. “Besides, I’m a grown cheetah at most.” 

“What?” The word comes out a lot higher than I planned.  _ I blame it on his closeness. And his eyes - oh god, his eyes.  _ They’re the color of molten gold - but his pupil is slowly expanding, and his irises are darkening until they’re a golden brown. 

“Nothing.” The edges of his lips quirk slightly, in an almost-smile. “Can I kiss you?”

I snort at him. “Since when do you ask?” 

A shrug. “Since I’m trying to be a gentleman.” He smirks at me, and lowers himself, until his lips are brushing against mine - just barely. 

“Well, you don’t have to.” I gasp, already breathless. 

“I don’t have to what?” 

“Ask.” I swallow. “You don’t have to, um, ask.” 

“That so?” He murmurs, and drags his lips down my jaw, until he’s nipping at my neck.  _ Of. All things. Holy hell.  _

I make some sort of noise at the back of my throat - a groan, or a mewl of approval at his actions - I can’t quite tell, because I’ve lost my ability to think. Jace responds by kissing his way up to my ear, and nibbles gently at my earlobe. The hand caressing my side slides under my top, and makes its way up, until the tip of his fingers grazes my bra. 

_ Oh god.  _

My fingers tighten at the hem of his t-shirt, and I push it higher, higher - until he takes the hint and pulls it over his head in one clean motion. 

_ Yes. Please.  _

He shifts again, so that he’s directly above me - his hips are between my thighs, and his torso is covering the entirety of mine. At the exact same moment, the hand under my shirt slips up to cover my breast. My back arches of its own accord, and I realize I want the layer of cloth between me and him off. 

Soon enough, my shirt joins his - lying discarded on his carpet. 

Jace’s lips descend on mine in fierce aggression, and I respond with equal fervor. His tongue flicks at my mouth - seeking permission to enter - I give in fully, and it sweeps in, moving in a way that makes me know exactly what he’d do if he got between my legs. 

_ Between my legs. Oh god.  _

I can feel him - the very distinctive bulge at his crotch rubbing against me, as he grinds his hips down in search of more friction. A groan passes from his lips to mine when I raise my own hips, to give him a better angle. 

“Clary.” 

“Mm?” My teeth catches on his bottom lip. I tug lightly, and release it.  

“You have to tell me-” He groans again, and pulls on my bra strap, until it’s hanging at my elbow. “-Tell me how - how far you want to go.” 

It takes all of my concentration, and an extreme amount of willpower to answer. 

“How far do  _ you  _ want to go?” 

“Right now?” He laughs roughly, and presses a tongued kiss at my collar. I shudder in pleasure. “All the way - whatever you want - God, this is so much better than I’d remembered.” 

“With Seelie?” 

He groans. “I’m really not in the mood - at all - to talk about her.” 

“Okay.” I laugh - or, I try - but my hormones are all over the place so that the only sound that comes out is more similar to a moan. From the way his bulge grows, he definitely doesn’t mind. And just to see what he’d do - I reach between us and palm him through his jeans. 

Jace growls - _ growls  _ \- and thrusts harder against my hand. 

An idea comes to me. “Get on your back,” I command. 

We shift, so that this time, he’s on his back, and I’m on my side - supported by my left arm, so that I can watch his face as I pop open the button on his pants, and slowly,  _ ever so slowly,  _ unzip him. I glance down, and the size of him makes my eyes widen. 

It’s not the first time I’ve seen him in his underwear, and it’s not the first time I’ve seen him erect - a shout out to those awkward mornings - but it’s the first time I’ve seen him with the two combined, and with a plan in mind to help him out. 

I take a breath, and slide my fingers under the waistband, until my entire hand disappears. I grasp the length of him, and pump - just once. 

Jace’s breath hitches, and his grip on my waist tightens until it’s almost uncomfortable - but not quite. 

I press my thumb against the tip of his cock, and he jerks in my hand - and curses. “Shit, Clary.” He groans. “That - that’s - Oh,  _ god. _ ” 

My smile is almost smug - I’m proud to see that I can elicit a reaction like this from him. I pull the length of him out, so he’s free from the confines of his clothing. And,  _ someone save me,  _ because he’s _ huge.  _

I continue pumping, leaning down every so often to kiss him. The symphony of expressions that are evident on his face, however, happen to be much more satisfying. My thumb brushes over the broad head of him - once, twice.

It doesn’t take long before he’s spilling himself into my hands. 

 

We’re lying in bed after that - waiting for Jace to catch his breath. When he does, he rises to prop himself up on his elbows, and leans over to catch my lips with his. 

We kiss for a while - slow, languid kissing, with neither of us making a move to take it farther. 

My underwear is still uncomfortably wet when we break apart, but there’s a drawer of my things in his closet, that contains various items for impromptu sleepovers. However, I don’t find it in myself to move. 

“I have an idea.” Jace says, after minutes of silence. 

“Hm?” I flip over so I’m lying on my back instead. “What idea?” 

“How would you like it, if this-” He motions towards the two of us. “And everything we just did - became a common occurrence?” 

“Isn’t it already?” 

He twirls a strand of my hair around his fingers - “Oh? So you’ve touched me like that before? Because I can’t remember-”

I roll my eyes. “You know what I mean.” 

“I do. And, for the record-” He presses another kiss to my lips. “-I really liked what you did.” 

“Which part?”

“All of it.” His mouth trails a line of fire down to my neck. “Any chance you could do it again?” 

“Now?” I gasp, when Jace sucks at a spot just under my ear. 

He hums in satisfaction, and drags a finger from my lips to my chin - and then down my neck, past the valley between my breasts - only stopping at the waistband of my jeans, where he hooks two fingers around a belt loop. “Not now, exactly. But later - as in, tomorrow, the day after tomorrow, and the day after that,  _ and _ the day after that, and-”

“I think I get it,” I interrupt.

“But, of course,” he continues on with a smirk. “I think, in a couple of hours, or minutes - I’m not picky - I’d have to pleasure you first, to be fair.” 

His lips follow the path traced by his finger. I don’t stop him, but when he presses hot, open-mouthed kisses to my almost-bare breast - with the way my bra is hanging off, I may as well be naked from the waist up - I feel a wave of guilt wash over me. 

“Wait.” Jace freezes, and looks up, concern evident in his eyes. 

“What’s wrong?” He frowns. “Did I cross a line?” Horror dawns upon him, as he scrambles to get off me. “Oh, god, Clary - I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”

“No, no.” I rush to reassure him, and I can feel laughter beginning to build up in my chest.  _ He’s cute when he’s worried.  _ Wait.  _ No. Keep your stupid thoughts out of this.  _ “That’s not it. Not at all. It’s…”

“Seelie?” He guesses. 

“Look, as much as I hate her - as much of a bitch she is - the two of you are still together.” I look at him through my lashes. “Kissing, and making out is one thing - but this is another. Open relationship or not, I’m not going to do that when you’re still with her.” 

He presses his palm into his eyes. “You’re right. I mean, don’t let it get to your head - but you’re always right about stuff like this.” 

“I know.” 

“Oh, god. It’s already gotten to your head, hasn’t it?” I nod at him. 

“You know it.” I smirk. We lapse into silence, but I break it after barely a minute. “Jace?”

“Hm?”

“Why are you dating Seelie? You don’t even like her that much - I mean, that’s what you say. And, from the way you act - there’s nothing that proves otherwise.” 

He doesn’t answer.

“Jace.”

“Okay, okay, but-” He sighs. “What I’m about to say - the truth - won’t change anything, right?” 

“Why would it change anything?” 

“Okay, do you remember that party we went to - down by the beach - near the end of last year?”

I tilt my head to the side. “The one celebrating the beginning of summer?”

“Yeah. Do you still remember what happened? I know you were drinking - we were talking for a while, and then Raphael came over, and asked you if you wanted to go for a swim?” 

“Right.” I nod slowly. “And I went with him.” 

“I watched you go. I wasn’t interested in anyone at the party, so I kept watching you - ignore how creepy that might sound, please. And then the two of you started making out. I mean, we’d been doing that kissing thing for a while, but when I saw you kissing him, I-” Jace inhales sharply. “I realized I cared.” 

“You - cared?” I question, unsure of the implied meaning. 

“Jealous.” He clears his throat. “I was jealous.” 

“Of me?” I smirk. “Because I was kissing Raphael?” 

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”

“Okay, okay, yeah. Continue.” I wave him on. 

“You were my best friend - you still are, but knowing you, you’re already finding a way to twist my words just to annoy me - I didn’t want these new revelations, or whatever, to mess up our entire dynamic. So, I kept thinking about it after I dropped you off at home, and then I was like, ‘oh, I’ll just date someone else to get over you.’” He shrugs. “ _ And then,  _ the following Monday, I was waiting for you at school, and Seelie came up to me, and asked me out. Again. So, I finally said yes.” 

“Oh.” I deadpan. 

“Yeah.” 

“Well, did it work?” I ask, after a pause. 

“What?” He pushes his hair back warily. 

“You know, the ‘dating Seelie because you thought you liked me’ thing.” I reach forward, 

to brush away his hair when it does nothing but flop back to cover his forehead - and his eyes - again. Jace catches my arm, and pulls me in for a kiss. 

I laugh when we break apart, breathless. 

“That’s classified information.” He bops the tip my nose, and I try to ignore the butterflies flying in my stomach.  _ Jace likes me?  _

I huff, and cross my arms over my chest. “Alright. Keep your secrets. It’s not like we’re best friends, or anything.” 

He rolls his eyes at me. “And is guilt-tripping me what best friends do?” 

I glare at him for a while. “But in all seriousness,” I sigh. “You should probably break up with Seelie. It’s not fair for her if you keep leading her on like this.” 

“Okay,” he breathes. 

“Okay.” I smile.

“Okay.” He teases. 

I groan, and grab a pillow to smack him. “This isn’t the Fault In Our Stars. Stop being cliche.” 

“Okay.” 


End file.
